


Another Perspective

by heartstrickledown



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstrickledown/pseuds/heartstrickledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crimebusters AU, pre-Roche. Adrian/Rorschach. Adrian ties Rorschach up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Perspective

  
  
  
  
---  
  
  
**Warnings:** Bondage, dub-con, facial.

Adrian spreads Rorschach's legs with hands that are firm, and dry, and warm. Neither of them are smiling.

"Is something the matter?" Adrian asks with a voice that is warm, and dry, and firm. He intends to be a congenial lover, for the time.

Rorschach's head tilts back. He does not reply.

*

"It's indecent," Rorschach deadpans. His tone is too matter-of-fact for it to be an insult, which makes it more of one. Daniel, at Rorschach's left, looks pained, his posture curling in - he's witnessed this behavior more than enough times, Adrian supposes. Probably he has a Pavlovian reaction to Rorschach's moods, if this can qualify as a 'mood.'

Laurie, to Rorschach's right (with several feet between them), laughs.

Adrian smiles at Rorschach, cordially. "Why do you say that?" he asks, in a tone that more-than-welcomes polite debate.

Rorschach points an accusing finger at the canvas. The finger traces the air. "The painting escapes criticism only because it's 'abstract.' It's clearly meant to represent a bound woman; violence of the colors suggest she's being raped. Very poor taste, Veidt. Not that I expected any better of you."

Laurie shoots Rorschach a disgusted look - Adrian notes the way her fingers brush at a coat pocket, yearning (subconsciously?) for tobacco. Daniel stares intently at his feet. Adrian, on the other hand, is simply delighted at this fresh insight to Rorschach's psyche. Perhaps their interests align more than Adrian suspected. He allows a small smile. "It's interesting you should say that, Rorschach. No one else has."

Rorschach drops his hand; the black shapes whir a touch faster than their normal rate. (Increased heat, Adrian notes with satisfaction.)

"Undoubtedly the many art critics who've studied it have simply overlooked that interpretation." Having planted his barbs, Adrian steps back - and as he does, it occurs to him that perhaps he took the comment a touch too personally. "I suspected you appreciate fine art. What are..."

"Words are more valuable," Rorschach says. The way he sneaks his hands into his pockets betrays his lingering self-consciousness.

Adrian can't be pleased that his words stuck. Not when Rorschach's interrupted him so impolitely. "Yes, well," he say, then leaves it at that, letting Rorschach interpret his full response.

Adrian can tell Rorschach has interpreted him incorrectly when he spends the rest of the tour relaxed.

*

"You're more flexible than I expected," Adrian murmurs against Rorschach's thigh, pressing his legs open and back. His muscles give like a well-oiled machine.

Rorschach twists his wrists and groans (intending, surely, to grunt instead).

"Tell me, Rorschach," Adrian continues, sitting up so he can press Rorschach's shins against the wall, "how many people know you like this?" Rorschach bares his teeth and pulls at the satin ties binding him. They don't give. "Don't tell me I'm the first. I'll be too flattered."

"Shut up," Rorschach says. It runs together - _Shutup._ Adrian expects him to repeat himself. Predictably, he does, this time with more enunciation, then less: "Shut _up._ Shut up shutup _shuddup_."

Adrian releases one of his legs and closes his hand around Rorschach's prick.

He arches, and the words transition to a soft whine; he hushes himself. Adrian smiles, for more reasons than one - for instance, Rorschach's leg, without Adrian's hand supporting it, remains prone, stilled against the wall from the knee down. His thighs are trembling.

"Good," Adrian says. "Stay just like this."

When he leans back, Rorschach does exactly that.

He looks ridiculous.

*

Nelson requires Nite Owl's assistance with a minor shipment of crack-cocaine, and Adrian knows before Daniel asks that Rorschach will not be joining them.

Before Rorschach has the opportunity to slink off alone, Adrian lays a hand on his shoulder. The reaction is both subtle and instantaneous: Every muscle in Rorschach's body tenses and his posture becomes twice as aggressive. He does not relax when he sees that it is Adrian and not someone else holding him back.

"Rorschach," calm, polite, inquisitive, "do you have a particular agenda tonight? I could use your help with a kidnapping case," he says, and looks so very concerned. Adrian's shoulders droop slightly: He has been losing sleep over this and Rorschach is the only detective brilliant enough to crack this case --

Rorschach succumbs in a matter of two heartbeats. "Fine," he says, and there is a hint of enthusiasm at the edges of his growl.

  
Adrian explains the case as they walk.

Rorschach deduces the girl's location within twenty minutes, and, impatient: "I thought you were the world's smartest man -" and because he is two paces ahead of Adrian, he misses the quirk of a smile on Adrian's mouth.

"I suppose I needed another perspective." He maintains a neutral (concerned, peeved at himself) tone. "Let's hurry, then."

It is painfully easy to find the girl. She's old enough to have full breasts (full hips, full lips, full work benefits), and she is wonderfully frightened. Ropes bind her to a metal chair. Adrian lets Rorschach reach her first, and he is too professional, asking the girl if she's all right as Adrian stalks about the perimeter, keeping an eye out (and an eye in). It's not until the girl's been freed that Adrian receives confirmation to his original suspicions - Rorschach handles the ropes with a care bordering on reverent. Absently, he loops the length of them around his arm; it clings to him in stiff circles. It is tight enough that there just may be bruises on his forearm in the morning.

"Let us escort you to the precinct," Rorschach rumbles. He does not touch the girl, but he keeps the length of rope on hand (rather, on arm). As they walk, Adrian's arm around the girl's shoulders, Rorschach touches the rope again and again, a subconscious tick. Adrian has to look away to keep from smiling.

*

Adrian stands at the end of the bed and watches Rorschach pant. He's remained still thus far, the obedient child he secretly longs to be.

Perhaps, Adrian supposes, he should reward Rorschach. Perhaps not.

He already knows what he'll do next, but he keeps Rorschach waiting, just to see if Rorschach will remain erect. He does. A small drop of pre-come glistens on the tip of his penis, obscured by the foreskin. Adrian estimates that Rorschach will come in the next five minutes, then decides he'd like to humiliate him by cutting that time in half, at least.

"To abdicate yourself of responsibility," Adrian says out loud, and blinks. He hadn't meant to vocalize his thoughts. To make up for it, he crawls onto the bed again and slides his tongue under the foreskin, careful to keep his teeth from doing anymore than grazing the sensitive flesh. "That's what you want," he adds, so that his earlier mishap looks intentional. Rorschach comes against his mouth and cheek without warning, shuddering, his hands clenched with enough force to make blood pool under his dirty fingernails. Adrian spits onto his hand and smears it across Rorschach's stomach.

Rorschach groans like a wounded animal.

"Well." Adrian wipes his face off with Rorschach's cravat, pleased to find the action distresses Rorschach enough for him to grunt in protest. (He wonders why Rorschach's been so quiet. He expected to be called a degenerate - or worse - by now.) "Clearly that is one thing I can give you," he says, as if he sincerely wants to do right by Rorschach.

Rorschach's legs remain open as Adrian leans in. He has no desire to let Rorschach close them again, but he will (naturally); likely two hours from now, because he's certain it will take at least that long for Rorschach to ask to be allowed to leave, stubborn as he is.

His fingers work up under Rorschach's mask, feeling the flawed skin with a small measure of genuine interest. Rorschach bucks his hips up, an angry movement made pitiful by the fact that he is already half-hard again.

Adrian closes his thumbs against the outside of the mask, curls his fingers, and pulls.

"However," he sighs, smoothing a palm across Rorschach's sweaty cheek, "I'm afraid there is only so much I will give before taking, as well."

Rorschach's stare is unafraid, and Adrian can't help but smile at that.


End file.
